


Tempest

by Onki



Series: Dawn of Omegaverse [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Justice League (2017), Justice League - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Bruce Wayne, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Omega Clark Kent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-07 00:59:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16843960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onki/pseuds/Onki
Summary: Clark returns from the dead.





	1. Chapter 1

Too many scents.

Too much light.

A twinge of familiar tone. But it isn’t enough. Something is amiss.

He had to get out of there.

As he flew up, it was a little quieter, yet still too much.

When he saw one of the men pointing at him, his body acted on an instinct, attacking. They all tried to stop him but it was useless. He could overpower them. Just when he was about to, he heard someone call out.

“Dad!”

It stopped him. He looked over, a boy stood there, with tears in his eyes, looking up at him in a mix of relief and horror.

It made his stomach coil. He mustn’t let that boy feel that way. He smelled familiar. His heartbeat was familiar. _Home._

The boy ran up to him, Clark put down others, fully turning towards the boy.

Yes, he was Clark. A fuzzy memory lingered at the back of his head, yet he couldn’t concentrate on it enough.

“You’re alive!” the boy exclaimed, clutching to the fabric of his pants.

“ _Conor_ ,” Clark choked, finally hugging back his son, falling to his knees. He had to get out of here.

Clark pulled him close, zipping over to the farm. Rows of corn were gently swaying with the wind. _Home._

It all came back to him: Lex, the final battle, the piercing pain, and then nothing. But most importantly, memories of Conor were back. His first steps, drawing - everything.

“You’ve grown,” Clark couldn’t hold back his tears. His son has grown without him. It couldn’t have been more than few years, but then again Conor had an unusual growth, he couldn’t tell.

The scent of his son was comforting. That’s when he picked up Bruce’s scent. He had to physically restrain himself from not recoiling.

“I see you’ve met your father.”

***

It was no time for long happy reunions. Steppenwolf has already collected all three Mother boxes and has unleashed hell on Earth at a small village in Russia. He had to go and fight.

Strangely, Clark felt like he finally belonged somewhere, when he fought alongside his new teammates. He felt like he could finally rely on someone, when he fought off the Parademons in a pile of bodies and mess, directing the monsters to others.

When the battle was finally over, and the adrenaline rush has run its course, Clark could finally let some facts sink in. The fact that he was dead for months, and the fact that Bruce has officially adopted Conor with his mother’s permission.

That’s when he decided to pay a visit to his mother.

“Clark!” she hugged him, as soon as he landed. She was already outside, sitting alongside Conor, when he flew over to the farm.

“God, I’ve missed you,” her hug tightened, her scent calming Clark like no one’s ever did. She kept patting him, and looking him all over him, as if to make sure it’s not her mind playing tricks on her.

It was at night, when everything calmed down, Clark put Conor to sleep in his old bedroom, making sure he fell asleep. He went to talk with his mother.

“I know you have a lot of questions and I understand it,” she led him outside, giving him a sad smile.

“Why Bruce?” he couldn’t keep the disappointment and anger from his voice.

“Conor knew. And he needed a parent,” she raised her hand, when Clark tried to interrupt. “Someone that smelled right. He was drawn to Bruce, I couldn’t tear him away, as much as I wanted to. We thought you were dead, Clark.”

Clark nodded, looking down. Although he was angry now, he knew she was right.

“You have no idea how I’ve missed you,” Martha put her hand on his cheek, looking up, “My baby.”

***

When Conor stood beside Bruce, there was no doubt they were of one blood. The stance alone seemed to be similar – the air of natural charisma and confidence. When they both turned to look at him, their gazes piercing, Clark felt something inside of him soften at the sight.

“He grows fast,” Bruce noted, when Conor was led away by Alfred, who started to fuss about missed classes of French, as soon as he appeared, ushering the boy inside. He probably knew Clark and Bruce had a long talk incoming.

Clark stayed quiet – what was there to say?

Bruce cleared his throat. When Clark took his scent in, it appeared to be dampened with chemical suppressor. On top of it, Bruce had his eye down. As if he was trying to-

“There is no need for all this,” Clark said, turning away. “Conor is already attached to you. And I understand it. It doesn’t mean we have to get along. And certainly I don’t need to feel superior over you for us to get along – I’m not you.”

There was no answer.

***

In the following days, Clark had few days to gather himself. He was mostly at the farm, helping his mother around. It reminded him of his early days, when

It was no shocker, when Bruce sent them a package, containing everything that was needed to ‘resurrect’ Clark Kent: false medical reports, information of his death completely wiped from the records, as was stated in the short letter attached to the parcel.

It felt surreal standing at the entrance of the Daily Planet, readying himself for a one pissed off Perry.


	2. Chapter 2

“You’re most welcome to stay,” Alfred said after one of the nights, when Clark came to visit Conor. It was part of the agreement he had begrudgingly agreed upon with Bruce. Conor truly flourished with his alpha father, taking full advantage of multiple tutors and training area, where he honed his ever growing powers and skills.

“Thanks, Alfred. But I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t? Conor is an exceptional young man. But even he yearns to have both of his parents together,” there was no judgement in his voice.

Clark only gave him an apologetic smile.

“You were part of his life for so long, then you were gone – and now, you’re back again. It’s hard for a young mind to process it.”

Clark could see through the walls Conor sitting in his bed, looking straight at them.

“I’ll try,” he left it at that, soaring upwards into the sky.

***

“Just because you showed up alive doesn’t mean you get to slack off! Now get up and get me that scoop pronto!” Perry was getting red in the face.

Clark had completely forgotten about it, well because he was saving people from the flood at the other side of the planet. It was no excuse, though. Not for Perry. Even if he was the Superman.

Everyone at the office was surprised to see him. But they were glad. There were enough casualties nowadays.

Lois held herself well, when she saw him. However, later, when she showed up at his apartment, she broke down, while apologizing.

“I was such a-“, she couldn’t finish, just looked at him through teary eyes.

Clark just kept telling her it wasn’t anyone’s fault until she fell asleep.

Clark smiled at the memory, while he walked towards the building where he was supposed to gather info. But something caught his attention at the corner of his eye.

Newsstand. Clark saw the headlines.

‘RETURN OF THE ROBIN’ was written in bold letters, over multiple newspapers, each begging for attention.

Clark grabbed closest one, looking at the blurry pictures, taken by some bystanders. Too young to be Dick, not Jason. Feeling anger bubbling on the surface, he hurried to the nearest corner, stuffing his suit into one of the vents, before he headed towards Gotham.

***

Clark, barged into the house, triggering all the alarms. He even felt kryptonite at one point, but he was blinded by fury. He only saw red.

When he saw Bruce standing there, as if nothing happened, Clark tossed him at the nearest furniture, hearing a satisfying snap of the wood falling apart underneath the heavy body.

“Why?” Clark growled, he couldn’t fry with his eyes, because of the earlier gas, but no matter – he still had his fists. “Where’s Conor?”

Clark grabbed the alpha by the open collars, Bruce was surprisingly mellow. He kept his hands raised, talking with a calm tone. “Conor is safe. I see you saw today’s newspaper, and I can explain.”

“Dad?” Clark didn’t even notice Conor coming into the room. He dropped Bruce, hurrying to his son.

“You’re okay,” he quickly scanned over for any broken bones.

“What happened?” there it was same expression the day he saw, when he was resurrected. _Fear._

“No, no, no. I thought you were hurt,” Clark hugged him, while glaring at Bruce. ‘Explain yourself’ was the silent message he had in his eyes.

“Master Conor, your help is needed in the kitchen,” the ever helpful Alfred stepped into the room, assessing all of them with a look. When the boy didn’t make a move, he continued.

“Now.“

When they left and Bruce brushed down the splinters from the table, making himself look half-decent.

“Well?” Clark crossed his arms, leaning against the wall.

“The Robin you saw isn’t Conor,” Bruce looked dejected, yet Clark could see a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“Are you planning turning him into one?” Conor was still a child, even if the said child can lift a car.

“No,” Bruce quickly replied, walking over to Clark.

“No,” he softly repeated. Clark noticed he still had a thick layer of gel on his glands. He noticed the alpha taking a deeper breath. Suddenly the air felt electrified with tension.

“Hey, I’ve been thinking maybe I should get-“

Clark and Bruce turned to look at the boy who unknowingly entered the room with his nose up a tablet, noticing them only when it was too late.

“Superman?”

“Tim,” Bruce closed his eyes in exasperation, slowly exhaling.

Tim visibly jumped, eyes frantically jumping from Bruce to Superman in awe.

“He is the new Robin,” Bruce finished.

“Hey! My identity!”

And just like that Clark felt all the tension in his body leave. But then, he tensed again.

“Bruce, who is this child?” Clark couldn’t stop the rumble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all support for the first chapter  
> bat fam ftw   
> also i'll ignore suicide squad cos i can


	3. Chapter 3

“Dad!” Conor ran up to Clark, when they all walked into the library for a ‘talk’.

“Wait, ‘dad’?” Tim looked like a gaping fish more and more. “But… You’re Bruce’s…”

Realization dawned on him, a look of happiness of solving a mystery immediately switched with a look of horror.

“You and Superman?”

But at this point all the adults moved to the fireplace, leaving Tim with Conor.

“Tim, take Conor to the training ground. Do the routines I told you to do,” Bruce gave an order that was not to be questioned.

“I assume Mr. Kent is aware of our situation now,” Alfred cut through the silence, since no one would start, even after several moments passed.

“Conor will never do _this_ ”, Clark pointed his hands towards Bruce.

“But he knows what we do. He’ll try to,” Bruce countered. “As much as I don’t want him to. After Tim, I know I’d rather guide him, than let him run in blind. He already surpasses me in strength and speed.”

“What Master Bruce has meant to say is that young Conor would follow his parents’ footsteps regardless of your objections and it would be in his best interests if both of his parents guided him.”

It was true. Young impressionable minds, rushing into the battle without a flicker of an idea how it is actually out there, where morals become more gray and decisions taken becoming more and more difficult.

“What about Tim? Who is he and where did he come from?” Clark pressed.

“He singlehandedly figured out what all the news agencies and organizations can’t: my identity. I… I wanted to send him away. But now, I’m adopting him,” a flash of pain crossed his expression, when he said it out loud.

Clark wanted to rub in the fact that Bruce didn’t want Conor at first, but refrained himself from doing so.

Alfred looked at his clock’s screen.

“I’m afraid I must take this call from Master Dick,” Alfred stepped out.

“Conor’s growth is slowing. By my estimates, he’ll be growing up with same speed as average human. Although he now has of a ten year old’s, I can change his records.”

“I just wanted him to have a normal childhood,” Clark scrunched his brows, when he remembered his.

They stood in the quiet, each delved in their memories.

“Fine.”

Bruce looked at him.

“We’ll train Conor.”

Clark ignored Conor’s whoop two walls away, masking the little smile that made to his face with a cough.

***

It seemed like after Steppenwolf universe just decided to throw every possible creature, alien, whatever at Earth. Supernatural occurrences sprouted like mushrooms after rain, meta-human numbers rising with each week, closely followed by super-villains. Of course Batman categorized each villains and heroes.

‘Justice League’ is what they called themselves now.

“-the Watchtower will be start its operation next week. That is all,” Bruce dismissed everyone. There was no role of a leader, yet the league accepted Batman as the de facto leader.

“How could Lex escape Arkham? I thought you funded the asylum after his first escape,” Clark followed Bruce out of the temporary HQ.

“I don’t know,” Bruce gritted through, vocoder still working. He jumped into the Batmobile. “You want a ride?”

It sounded ridiculous coming from him. Clark couldn’t stop the smile this time.

“No, I’m good. Meet you at the house.”

When Clark showed up, Conor was playing outside with Tim and another man. Clark landed quietly, observing the game of catch they improvised, using Conor’s speed and one gun, that catapulted the ball at a speed that would definitely smash anyone softer into a mush. When Conor threw his head back to laugh at something Tim said, Clark felt something inside of him thaw completely.

“Dad!” Conor ran up to him with a smile plastered on his face.

“Supes is here. Super,” Dick whistled, earning a rib jab from Tim.

“Alfred told us to tell you to stay over a dinner. And, no, you cannot say ‘no’, that’s basically an insult,” Tim churned out.

“He learned the hard way,” Dick loudly whispered, “Name’s Dick, by the way. Richard, when I’m an old prune.”

Dick offered his hand for a shake, which Clark took gladly.

“But, you should _really_ stay for the dinner. Conor here already exhausted himself with the catch,” Conor whined in protest that died with the already familiar screech of wheels that stopped three grounds below.

“Dad is here,” Conor announced. It still felt weird when Conor referred Bruce as ‘dad’.

“You know what’s creepy? You two actually don’t need any food, right?” Dick later noted, when they all sat down by the table. He waved his fork around, earning a disgusted groan from Tim and equivalent of a bat-glare from Bruce watered down, only because everyone gathered together after few months.

Clark changed into civilian clothes, which seemed to ease Robins, and overall – everyone. No glaring ‘S’ to remind everyone to be the golden boy of the planet.

“But it’s nice,” Conor replied, when Clark was thinking how to answer it.

“You two also had that similar expression, when you two knew B came home. Which is _kinda_ creepy, but like when you see a dog and puppy do same things kind of way…” Dick continued, occasionally interrupted by a sassy remark from Tim and protests from Conor.

Clark silently ate, not noticing how he had a smile on his face. He noticed it only when he saw Bruce looking at him.

“What?” he mouthed.

Others’ conversation died down as well, magnifying the situation.

“Oh, hey I guess I’m the only one here who is a fully fledged hero here. Anyone wanna hear about the spy organization I worked at?” Dick was far more smarter than he let himself be. He smoothly led away the boys, leaving Bruce with Clark. Which wasn’t awkward at all.

“Martha’s crops,” Bruce said, pointing at the dish.

“She told me,” without the pretense he stopped eating, putting away the napkin. Cutlery clanking against the plate.

“My mother had a flower garden. At times she would grow vegetables as well,” Bruce continued, not minding the look of discomfort on Clark’s face. Clark wanted nothing more than fly away from the conversation. Despite them working like a well oiled machine, without others around, the feeling of dread creeped on.

“Alright.”

“The point is,” Bruce continued, leaving the cutleries by his plate as well. “What I did to you years ago…”

“We’re not having this conversation here,” Clark announced, abruptly standing up, knocking the table in the process. Worried Conor might overhear.

“Conor can’t hear us. I reinforced the walls with lead, after Conor picked up a habit of spying on everyone.”

“I guess that’s from you.” Clark noted without a malice. But he was close to crossing that line. Despite his promises to himself that he’d go on for the sake of Conor, his patience was running thin. Tips of his fingers tingled.

“No we must have this conversation. It is important for Conor’s future, for our work, and for us.”

“There is no ‘us’, Bruce,” Clark’s voice rose an octave. The memories of that night flooded back in, each in gruesomely colorful detail, laced with smells, and added pain.

“Please,” Bruce’s voice could be barely heard.

“Why should I let you? Isn’t this your hero complex talking?” Clark bit out. The room grew smaller.

“No. I admit, I thought that what I did was no wrong, that you deserved it…”

Clark snorted at that, looking away in anger and disgust. His vision was blurry. He couldn’t concentrate.

“But when you told me about Conor, all the things I’ve done for the past few years have all caught up with me at that moment, and I regretted every minute of my actions afterwards. What I’ve done to you, to Conor, to everyone involved.”

“I don’t have your mark anymore,” Clark gingerly touched his neck, while backing away towards the window. His back came into contact with the cold glass. “I don’t have your mark.”

Bruce stayed seated.

“I don’t belong to you,” Clark continued, rubbing the spot on his neck with more force. The crack of glass echoed in the room.

“You should come with me. I have something to show you,” Bruce stood up, walking out. It really came to Clark’s choice.

He waited for a while. He thought of the cornfields, the mountains, where he was alone. When he didn’t have to think of anyone. Alone.

He could finally feel the floor, see clearer.

Clark took a deep breath, before quickly locating Bruce, who was patiently waiting around the corner, when he came out. He led them towards deeper into the house.

They entered the Cave. It wasn’t as cold as Clark imagined it to be. He was still on guard, when Bruce led them further, stopping by a box.

“Take this,” Bruce said. “This is all the kryptonite I had, had collected throughout these years. This is all of Earth’s reserve.”

Clark was taken aback by his offer. No way Batman would willingly give up the only upper-hand he had over the Superman to, well – Superman himself.

“Why?” was all Clark could muster himself to ask.

“Because I do want to amend,” Bruce continued as he looked at the box. “Despite your opinions of me.”

Clark couldn’t feel anything through the lead box, but he knew Bruce was telling the truth.

There was no reason to lie at all.

He could take it, but go where? But did he really trust it with Bruce? He couldn’t tell anymore. Clark still remembered that horrible day, yet he knew that Bruce was a changed man as well and he couldn’t pick from the two. After few moments passed, Clark finally sighed.

“It’ll be for the best if it stays here, it’s the most…” what, safe? Clark couldn’t fight the animal inside of him that screamed that it was, the suppressed omega nature, also his rational part of the brain told him it was the safest as well, yet he couldn’t listen to it completely. There was still a little part of his brain that kept repeating ‘no, run, leave’. He had to suppress it. “Safe.”

Bruce’s stance relaxed, hands falling out of his pockets.

Was it truce?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> realized i posted realy short chapters before. so im making up to it

**Author's Note:**

> lmao hi  
> i'll edit the work after im done


End file.
